Tuesday, June 26, 2012

In which I Roddy, interview my author

So I decided to do Anne's tag over at Scribblings. On HER! mwuhahahah!

Actually she said it sounded like fun. So don't get on the soapbox SPCA{society for prevention of cruelty to authors}

Do you want a hug?
Anne: Yes please!*hugs* I like you better since Will left, you let me hug you now. Wait that came out wrong.
Me: I should think so.
Anne: I'm so sorry! I promise it'll all be OK though. I won't let anything permanently bad happen to him.
Me: Thanks.
Anne: Can I have another hug?

Do you have any kids?
Anne: No.

Have you killed anyone?
Anne: No !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Methinks she doth protest to much.
Anne: WHAT!?!?!?!?
Me; Nossings!

Love anyone?
My family. My people. My friends.
Me: Hmmph.
Anne: You're one of my people idiot.

What is your job?
Anne: Writer, sister, daughter, friend. 

What are you going to do when this tag is over?
Anne: Write a couple thousand words more.

What is your greatest fear?
That Eric and I won't ever get this thing straightened out. And lightning. ANd open electric sockets. And failing. And...shall I go on?

What do you think of your parents?
Anne: I loves them muchly.

Any siblings?
Anne: Four of them. Three sisters and a brother.
Eye color?
Me: Your eyes are green
Anne: Stop wearing those green sunglasses.

Are you good or bad?
Anne: I am a sinner saved by grace. 
Me: That makes us siblings, ever thought of that?

Favorite season?
Anne: Ummmmmmmm?
Me; Your favorite season is spring.
Anne: Why?
Me: That's when my Birthday is of course.
Anne: Oh conceited one!

Who's your best friend?
Anne: My sister Amy. And you.
Me; Buttering me up huh? You want me to tell you whether or not that thing happens to Eric? Nothing doing Blakeney.
Anne: Writing. Writing. Thinking about writing. Blogging. Writing.
ME; Wait you forgot Writing!

Do you care what others think of you?
Anne: I wish I didn't but I do. A lot. 

Was this interview fun?
Anne: Very much so!

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Binker's Weekly Updates I

It's Saturday! Anne currently has 3372 words of Legend written. I have with me here Eric and Roddy who will be coming in later to write about what's going on in their lives right now. 

But I get to talk first. Anne is in the middle of chapter two and

She left me there with my head spinning around about to black out! You guys have no idea what it feels like to be a book character. While the author is writing you're reliving what happened. It's like you're taken back in time and you have to go through everything including the not knowing how its going to turn out all over again. And then when she stops writing you are left in what ever condition you were in.

Eric! Its my turn right now! BTW Eric is writing in bold and Roddy is writing in italics.I  thought I;d share a paragraph with you from her book. Just a little taste. 
It was like watching a tiger in a cage. Like watching an eagle in a net. Shivers ran down John’s spine.  He wished that someone else were the prison guard. Big strong man that he was this youth frightened him. His eyes glittered and his lips were stretched over small white teeth from which hatred and loathing shone like sunlight.  John was used to tired criminals. Men he pitied and men he prayed for, even the hardened men who he knew would do anything to get out did not frighten him as much as the young lion who was now turning his back on the tray of food he had slid under the door. Hardened criminals he could take, but this animal was not the kind of thing he was used to.

Right now I'm really mad at her. You know where she left me?
They had simply taken him away and sold him to a man who raised horses. Sold. Stamped and sealed as the property of another. He turned his hand over and stared hard at the mark upon it.  The seal of another man. The same mark he would brand a hog or a letter with. The familiar sickness rose in his throat. The world swam. Only one thing stayed still: the red mark on his hand, a glowing red bird it grew flaming and and throbbing its image into his eyeballs so when he closed his eyes there it was imprinted on the back of his hand.It seemed to turn its head ansd fly toward him beak ready to pierce him through. He waited petrified. Its eyes glittered evilly and the thing dangling from its claws became a net the bird flew closer it was many birds each silent and sinister each re. each hilding the wedge of this net. They were above him. He turned his head and the net dropped enveloping him in its folds. It was cold brushing his skin like the touch of...
Touch of what! I'm stuck feeling sick with my hand throbbing like it's on fire, hallucinating about birds feeling the cold touch of the net on my skin but unable to finish my thought until she writes it! 

Sorry you guys! But Binker really wanted to do his post right now. This is Anne by the way.

Get me out of here miss anne  person. Now!

Manners Roddy!

Alright alright enough of this! Lets finish my thought!

Coming! Coming!